


Burger Full of Hot, Strong Love

by whelvenwings



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Diners, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-30
Updated: 2014-06-30
Packaged: 2018-02-06 22:03:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1874109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whelvenwings/pseuds/whelvenwings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel wanders into Bobby's Diner, disillusioned and tired of his studies; with a little help and a quick cookery lesson from the new chef, he leaves feeling far more cheerful.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Burger Full of Hot, Strong Love

It was early evening in Stanford, California, and Cas was sitting morosely at his usual table. He knew he should be back in his room working on his thesis, or studying for his exams, or perhaps just staring blankly at his textbook like he’s been doing for the past two hours… he sighed. Perhaps he did make the right decision to come out and get some air.

“Hey there,” said a deep, friendly voice. “You alright, son?”

Cas looked up at the man standing next to him: he was scruffy, bearded, and wearing a shabby old baseball cap over a kind expression.

“Hello, Bobby,” Cas said, his voice rough with tiredness. “I’m fine, just a little weary.”

“There’s a bottle of inspiration in the cabinet,” Bobby replied with a wink.

“I’d rather have some food, if that’s acceptable.”

Bobby nodded. “We’ll soon fix you up, son. Dean!”

Cas peered across the room in surprise. Wiping down tables with his back to Cas was a tall man, wearing a soft grey t-shirt and low-slung jeans. Cas made a conscious effort not to check the guy out as he leant right over the last table – and then regretted his nobility as soon as the man turned around, because he was  _gorgeous_.

He was over six feet tall, Cas was sure, with light brown hair and tanned, strong-looking arms. His expression as he turned was wide-eyed and expectant; he raised his eyebrows at Bobby as he waited for instructions with his mouth slightly open.

“You’ll be serving Cas, here. I’m going out back. That OK?”

 “Yeah, fine, Bobby,” Dean said, his voice about three octaves lower than Cas had been expecting. He cleared his throat and stared at the plaid tablecloth in front of him.

“I’ll leave you to it, then,” said Bobby, pushing through the door to the back of the restaurant. Dean twirled a pencil between his fingers, a pad of paper held in his other hand.

“What can I do for you?” he asked with a small smirk. Cas shrugged.

“What do you like making?” he asked. Dean looked a little taken aback by the question, losing his cocky expression.

“Me? Uh, I like – my brother tells me I make good burgers. You like those?” Cas nodded.

“A burger would make me very happy,” he said. The corners of Dean’s mouth turned down slightly, but his eyes sparkled as though he were repressing a smile.

“One happy burger, coming right up,” he said, moving over towards the open kitchen at the far side of the restaurant. Cas watched him go. He was the only customer; Bobby’s place usually got busier later in the evening. He drummed his fingers against the table top for a few minutes, working up his courage, and then followed Dean’s path across the room.

Dean was flipping a burger on the grill whilst also shaking up a pan of onions and moving his hips in time with the music playing on the little radio in the corner. Cas watched him work, appreciating the way his slightly ratty t-shirt clung to his arms and his chest and the soft curve of his tummy.

“Have you been here long?” he asked eventually. Dean almost dropped the pan of onions.

“Jesus, Cas. You always creep up on people like that?” Cas shrugged, but Dean was smiling. “No, I haven’t been here all that long. My kid brother goes to school here, so I’m just waiting tables and Bobby’s teaching me to cook so that I can pay the bills.”

Cas smiled. “That sounds wonderful.”

Dean shrugged, turning back to the grill.

“It’s not so bad,” he said. “It’s a job, anyway.”

“It’s something real,” Cas said wistfully. “Making a real difference, making people happy with food. All I do is study.”

Dean put his pans down, and wiped his greasy hands absently on his t-shirt. Cas waited for the usual placations, the  _you’ll get a great job someday because of your degree_ , or the  _you’re lucky to be where you are, quit complaining._  Both of those things were true, after all.

“You want to learn something real?” Dean said instead. “Come on round here, then.”

He beckoned Cas around the counter, pulling a pinny out of the nearest drawer and reaching up to loop the cord around Cas’ neck. He pushed his fingers against Cas’ hips, turning Cas around so that he could tie a bow at the back.

“Now, flip the burger with this,” Dean said, handing Cas a pair of tongs, “and toss the pan of onions so they don’t burn.” Cas nodded, his eyes on the grill but his attention entirely focused on Dean – his closeness, the way his warm hand gripped Cas’ wrist as he showed him the right strength to use so that the onions didn’t go flying across the room, the huff of his breath across the back of Cas’ neck as he watched the sizzling burger being flipped.

“Is this OK?” Dean asked at one point, as he stood even closer, the inside of his left hip lightly touching Cas’ right as he seasoned the burger with a little pepper.

“Yes, Dean,” Cas said, unsure if he was talking about the pepper or the proximity, but totally fine with both. Perhaps being this close to Dean should have been strange, but they moved in each other’s personal space without tension or awkwardness. Cas felt the knot of stress inside him unwinding, being replaced by a warm tingle in his chest. He was relaxed for the first time in weeks – months, in fact.

“Okay, now we’re going to plate it up,” Dean said. “Take the burger off the grill and put it inside the bun. We’re going to put some other stuff in it, maybe cheese, lettuce, tomato… sound good?”

Cas nodded. “And bacon,” he said. Dean raised his eyebrows.

“Bacon?” he repeated thoughtfully. “Yeah, bacon sounds great.” They threw a couple of rashers into the pan to cook while Dean taught Cas how to chop the tomatoes, their hands clasped together over the knife handle. Cas was finding it strangely difficult to swallow, and had to stop himself from leaning back to feel the scruff of Dean’s light beard against his neck.

The bacon only needed a few moments to cook in the hot pan, so with Dean’s guidance Cas layered their toppings over the burger – chopped tomatoes, cheese, lettuce and finally bacon.

“Looks good, Cas,” Dean said when Cas had finished plating up.

“I’m sorry we didn’t make one for you,” Cas replied, moving around the counter to sit back down at his table and then changing his mind, laying his plate on the formica counter top.

“No worries,” Dean chuckled. “I probably eat enough of these as it is.” Cas picked up his burger, feeling Dean’s eyes on him. He closed his eyes, bit, chewed, swallowed. When he looked up, Dean was leaning towards him over the counter, watching with wide eyes.

“Good?” he said, and Cas wondered if he was imagining the way Dean’s voice seemed lower. He licked his top lip, and Dean’s eyes tracked the movement. No, he wasn’t imagining anything. He smiled.

“Very, very good, Dean. You’re a great teacher.”

Dean made a non-committal grunt and held out his hand for the burger, which Cas handed over. Dean took a large bite, chewing slowly. Cas watched the way his jaw moved, and smiled when Dean hummed deep in his throat.

“The bacon is great,” he said, his mouth still half-full. Cas fought back a smile, wondering why he found that endearing. “We make a pretty good team, Cas.”

“Yeah,” Cas said, as Dean swallowed. “Maybe sometime –” he hesitated, then saw the hope in Dean’s eyes and ploughed on. “Maybe sometime, you could come over and we could cook together again.”

“I’d like that, Cas,” Dean said with a grin that made Cas’ heart skip. “I’d like that a lot.”

They finished the burger together, and if Bobby noticed that their fingers were intertwined on the counter top when he came back in, he said nothing about it. He did smile to himself, though, when Cas left a while later, with Dean’s number written in smudged pen on his hand and a small but definite sparkle in his wide blue eyes.


End file.
